


You Look Pretty Good Down Here

by noijonas



Category: Death Note
Genre: 7 Deadly Sins, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Lawlight Week 2017, M/M, Shinigami!Light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-17 03:50:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10585839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noijonas/pseuds/noijonas
Summary: Kira is taken down early on, and Light is reborn as a young Shinigami who remembers nothing of what he once was. L is the one to gain ownership of his notebook, and together, they relearn what it means to be human.





	1. Greed

He’s looking down at his own hands with blurred vision. He doesn’t know how it all came to be; how _he_ came to be. He looks around, and finds that someone is watching him. The someone isn’t a human, however.

It’s a Shinigami, with razor-sharp teeth, and wild eyes.

“Hey, Light,” the Shinigami says to him, and he blinks, looking down at his own hands again.

They’re almost human. Sharp fingernails, and perhaps a bit more lanky and crooked than a human’s fingers, but they’re nothing like the black claws on the Shinigami looming over him.

 _Light_ … That name. It seems familiar.

He looks around himself, finding no one else nearby. The Shinigami must have been talking to him.

“How ya feelin’, buddy?” the Shinigami asks him, his mouth pulled into a wide grin.

Light swallows, flexes his jaw once, twice, and opens his mouth to speak. However, the voice that comes out startles him.

“Who are you?” he questions, his voice low and foreign.

It’s not ghoulish like the Shinigami’s voice, but it’s too raspy to be human.

He blinks, looking around the place he was in. Was he once a human? He hasn’t the slightest clue. But he doesn’t know if he can trust the Shinigami to tell him the truth if he should ask.

“Oh man, you forgot me already? Jeez, I’m your pal, Ryuk,” he’s told, and strangely, Light finds comfort in the twinge of familiarity that name gives him.

Perhaps… Ryuk is telling him the truth.

“How did I get here? _Where am I_?” Light wonders, running his unknown fingers through the dust he’s somehow settled on.

He peers at Ryuk’s face, but isn’t afraid.

“Your new home, the Shinigami Realm.”

He wants to doubt that, but can’t when they’re surrounded by grey, seated between what appears to be an oversized rib-cage. The land they’re occupying feels somehow _alive_ , but also crawling with death. Light doesn’t question it; it’s the least of his concerns.

“You came from the human world, just like I did, years and years ago. Except you’ve only been here for a little while. You really don’t remember any of it?”

Light feels like he should apologize. Ryuk seems genuinely upset that he doesn’t remember him.

He shakes his head in reply.

“Ah damn. Well. We were best buds back on Earth! I dropped my Death Note, and you happened to be the one to pick it up.”

Ryuk’s not looking at Light anymore. He’s looking off into the grey sky, reminiscent of their time back on Earth.

“You wanted to use it to kill bad guys, but you became a pretty evil guy yourself, Light,” Ryuk says, and Light feels scolded.

He tries to remember ever being human, but nothing surfaces. All he can remember is waking up in the Realm only minutes ago.

Ryuk doesn’t explain what the Death Note is, but he doesn’t need to either. Somehow, Light already _knows_ what it is, and he eyes the one hanging from Ryuk’s waist. He _knows_ what a Shinigami is. Knows what they do. But what he doesn’t know is where or how he learned it, neither the reason he’s in that Realm.

His new home, Ryuk said before. What did he mean by that? Was Light… A Shinigami as well?

“You were pretty smart, but not smart enough!” Ryuk says, punctuating his sentence with a laugh that sends a chill down Light’s spine.

Light shoots him an almost offended look.

“What happened?” he asks, looking down at his hands again.

They’re still pale. Still flushed with human colour.

“A woman caught you!” Ryuk tells him, again laughing.

He must find it hysterical.

But Light stays put, shamed by this failure, even though he can’t really remember it. He wants to know more, but simultaneously wants Ryuk to stop telling him.

He opts for the latter.

“Enough. So I was a human? What… What am I now?” he asks, looking over his body.

Light turns his head to look at his back, as best as one could. No wings. Simply a bony shoulder blade, covered in the white shirt he was wearing. But somehow, without explanation, Light just _knows_ he’s supposed to have wings. Supposed to have special eyes as a tool — to help him kill humans.

Ryuk waves his hand dismissively, sensing the confusion at the other’s lack of supernatural features.

“You’re just a baby Shinigami, no big deal. Your eyes will kick in soon enough. You’ll sprout wings eventually, and you’ll change. It’s gonna be fun!”

Light runs the unfamiliar fingers along his even more unfamiliar body. Along the waistband of his pants, something there feels stiff. He lifts his shirt, and finds a black notebook tucked against his stomach.

Quickly, he pulls it out, testing the weight of it. It _has_ to be his Death Note. He also, already, somehow knows how it works. And that it’s his new responsibility.

Light flips through it quickly, the pages blank.

“...”

He tucks it back into his pants, turning to Ryuk once more.

“I was a human, you said. Did I have a family?”

Ryuk doesn’t answer. Instead, the larger Shinigami lifts into the air, beckoning Light to follow him as he begins to fly away.

Light’s lack of wings weigh in on him as he tries to run after Ryuk. But astonishingly, his new legs allow him to run effortlessly. They’re longer, thinner, and feel like they could never wear out no matter the distance. _Not_ the legs of a human.

Together, they reach what appears to be a portal.

Peering in, Light can see the human world. Crawling with humans, each are living their individual lives. He’s fascinated, but Ryuk changes the view after spinning a black orb next to the portal. As he zeroes in on Japan, Light forces himself to watch patiently, keeping his gaze fixed on the human world. It zooms into a home in the Kanto region of Japan.

Inside the home, Light sees a family watching television together. Their faces make his heart ache a bit. He doesn’t remember their names, or anything about them, but can he assume they were once his family…?

An older woman wipes the kitchen table absentmindedly, while an older man and a young girl sit together on the couch. They’re so normal that Light can hardly believe they’re real.

“That was my family? Do they… remember me?”

He’s unable to look away. Light can imagine himself sitting on the couch there between the girl and the man, and somehow it feels natural.

Ryuk chuckles, and zooms in a bit closer, specifically to a shelf in the livingroom. There, surrounded by white flowers, sits the framed picture of a young man.

A pang of fear rushes through Light.

Something isn’t right about what he’s looking at.

Suddenly, everything feels cold as he begins to panic. His vision blurs, and when it clears again, everything is tinted red.

 _Light Yagami_ , it reads above the picture.

It’s the only thing there. This was him… as a human. He was looking at his own face, his own name. But both those things… were left behind in the human world when he’d _died_.

Ryuk laughs as he zooms back out a little, and crouches next to Light, watching the family as well.

Light can see their names now, and a series of numbers beneath.

 _His eyes_.

They were working now. It scares him suddenly. Because can feel himself losing his human bits faster than he’s gaining Shinigami parts.

Sachiko, Sayu, Soichiro… Those names don’t seem unknown, but they have little meaning to him anymore. He can’t continue to watch.

Hurriedly, Light looks over to Ryuk instead.

“I want to know more. I need to know _more_ , Ryuk,” his voice demands.

But Ryuk laughs again, and shakes his head.

“Light, you know I love ya, but I don’t have to tell you _anything_.”

That makes Light angry. He _wants_ more. Wants more information about who he once was. But... he isn’t about to beg for it.

“Hey, I have a fun idea!” says Ryuk, but Light decides he can’t trust that tone.

“Gimme your notebook, Light.”

Yet, if it’s going to give him what he wants, he doesn’t care. Light retrieves the notebook from underneath his clothes and hands it over to him.

After taking it, the Shinigami spins the orb again. This time, he stops on a hotel, zooming again into the building.

Within, sits a man, oddly perched on an armchair, sipping a cup of tea.

Light looks at the man’s face, reading to himself the name accompanying it.

 _L Lawliet_.

Suddenly, a rush of feelings hit him. He has no idea what they mean.

Anger? Fear? _L..Love_ … possibly?

He can recognise the emotions, but not the reasons. It makes him want to shield his eyes. Who is this L Lawliet? Could this be the man who killed him?

Yet before he can ask Ryuk about it, the larger Shinigami dips a hand into the portal, and tosses Light’s note into it, a grin on his face. He squeezes in a hearty laugh before Light can react.

“Ryuk!” he frantically yells out, fully aware of what this means.

Powerless, Light can only watch the notebook fall onto the plush carpet of the hotel room, while the man occupying it lowers his tea cup at the disturbance. Anxiety fills him as he witnesses the man get up and walk over to pick up the notebook.

Ryuk’s wings flare out, in preparation to take flight.

He’s still in hysterics as he shouts back, “Have fun learning, Light!”

And then he takes off, leaving him all alone.

Light looks to the man in the room, terrified. Now he has to go into the human world and accompany L Lawliet as _his_ Shinigami until he can get his notebook back.

But of course, that’s what he gets for wanting to know more.

* * *

 L can’t place exactly _where_ the notebook fell down from.

His hotel room has a bookshelf, but the notebook in question hit the floor several feet _away_ from it.

He studies the book more closely, wondering if perhaps someone set it up to fall in his hotel room as a prank of sorts. Then he flips through it, disappointed to find it blank. After spending a minute trying to make sense of it, he sets it down on the desk, unamused.

He doesn’t want to spend any more mental energy trying to figure it out. It’s only a notebook, after all, and doesn’t seem to be a threat. There’s no reason for it to be anything but a stack of paper.

* * *

Light makes his way down to earth with the remembered assurance that he doesn’t _need_ wings just yet. That in mind, falling through the atmosphere without control as to how or where he’ll land doesn’t feel as threatening.

Within seconds, his feet hit, colliding hard with the ground of the human world.

Dust kicks up around him, but no pain resonates through his body. No humans are around to witness his landing anyway, but even if there were, it could just be assumed that a gust of wind picked up.

Standing tall, Light looks around. The place he’s in isn’t familiar at all, but then again, he’s not afraid anymore. Nervous, yes, but fearless as he begins a walk up to the hotel.

Humans pass him by, and although he can easily phase through objects, Light decides to steer clear of anything in his path. He chooses the sidewalk, looking around at all of the different names floating in the air.

His view of the human world feels new. He towers now over most humans by over a foot.

Eventually, he reaches the building. Next, getting up to L Lawliet’s room presents a perfect opportunity to test his new abilities as a Shinigami.

With little effort, Light is able to latch onto the side of the building, and scale upwards. His long fingers dig into the hard siding, and within seconds he’s able to reach the 16th floor.

Phasing through the wall there, he crawls over onto the hotel’s floor before standing upright again.

Light finds himself extremely exhilarated by his new discoveries. He grins about being able to manipulate the world around him, delightfully sticking his fingers through the wall again.

All the while, a female human, Sen Hashi, he notes, walks past him.

Light knows he’s hidden to anyone who hasn’t touched his notebook. He reaches out an arm, and it goes straight through the woman, who continues walking by without faltering.

He laughs at that. His laugh bounces throughout the long hall, and the way it rings in his ears is almost recognisable. _Almost_.

However, Light remembers his objective. He continues down the hall, unable to resist the urge of dragging his fingers along the much-closer ceiling as he does.

When he finally comes across room 338, he phases straight through the door.

He must’ve made an audible noise, because L immediately turns to see him. Round eyes fixate on him, and slowly widen as L realises what he’s looking at. But oddly, no fear reflects in them.

Light spots his notebook on the desk to the right of him, but doesn’t make any move for it. He already knows the rule; that he must accompany the notebook’s new owner, L Lawliet, until his death, and only then could he have it back. There are exceptions to that rule, of course. L could give up ownership of the note, but Light hopes he won’t go that route.

“What- No, _who_ are you?” the man asks him, and Light feels himself shrink a bit under the intense gaze.

L stands up and walks over, peering closely into Light’s face.

It’s sunken in, and noticeably thinner, as the rest of him is. His hair’s longer and messier, but remains the same colour. He can see Light’s bones too, and — he can swear — the veins beneath his skin as well.

Light’s easily 7 feet tall now, yet he still cowers under L’s scrutiny.

L has his thumb is in his mouth as he looks at him from all different angles. He almost doubts that this creature is familiar, but the second he stares into his eyes, he knows who it is.

“Light Yagami,” he says, his words coming out like a sigh of relief.

Light doesn’t know how to react. He doesn’t know this man. Or rather, he doesn’t know him with his current memories.

“Are you a demon?” L asks, his intense stare replaced with a look of sheer curiosity.

Light shakes his head.

“I’m a Shinigami.”

The human’s eyes widen.

“So, are you here to kill me, then? For having you killed?”

Light freezes.

So L Lawliet _was_ the one who’d killed him? He doesn’t feel _anger_ , though. He can’t place the intense feelings under anger. Not quite.

“No, I’m here because you have my notebook,” he explains, looking over at the Death Note on the desk.

“Oh. Do you want it back?”

“No, actually. But there is something you have that I want — _answers_.”

L can’t deny that the creature in front of him was once the man he had executed for being Kira, but now he seems different. New. Somewhat... _afraid_. Does Light not have his memories, is that it?

“L Lawliet,” Light reads, watching the man suck in a nervous breath at his real name. “I want you to tell me about who I once was.”

* * *

 “I’m going to ask that you call me Ryuzaki,”

Light shakes his head. Why bother with fake names when no one aside from L could hear him, anyway?

“I suppose I cannot force you to. Very well, then,” L replies, voice unwavering, before he drops the subject completely.

Seconds pass before L speaks again.

“So Light doesn’t remember any of his human life?” he inquires, leaving Light feeling at a disadvantage.

L is back in his chair again, chewing on a thumbnail while studying Light’s hands.

As Light is reminded of them, he feels like flexing his new fingers again, but forces them to remain still, arms dangling at his sides. He hates the way L is making him feel. Hates feeling as though he’s in trouble still, even though he must’ve given up life as a human to repent for the crimes supposedly committed.

Reluctantly, Light moves to sit on the couch adjacent to L.

He crosses and uncrosses his legs, unable to find comfort in any position. His body just isn’t meant to sit in those ways anymore, but he forces himself to stay put anyway.

“I don’t. That’s why I was… sent here,” Light explains. “I want to know more. I want to know what my life was like — what I was like as a human.”

“And in exchange, I get your notebook?” L asks, voice flat and accusing.

“It’s my Death Note.”

L’s eyes grow wide at that. His thumb falls from his mouth as he leans forward.

“Your… what?”

There is a cloud of fear over his face suddenly, and Light doesn’t know what it is he did wrong. L stays silent, however. It shows how hard he’s thinking.

“That’s how you did it. It was the notebook.”

“What? Did _what_?”

The fear drops from L’s face as it’s replaced with amusement.

“Light is changed. He’s so desperate for information now.”

L runs a finger over his lips.

“Well, how about we strike a deal?” he continues. “You tell me more about this notebook, so I can solve your case completely… And I’ll help quench your greediness.”

Light is almost offended.

“Quench my _what_?”

But after L doesn’t repeat himself, he sighs.

“Fine. You have a deal.”


	2. Wrath

With the basics of the Death Note explained to L, Light’s notebook is put out of reach, locked in a black case. And after Light asks if its new owner is ever going to use it, he’s told that only evil people would write in such a notebook.

This hurts Light, but he doesn’t show it.

“So tell me, Light,” L begins, as soon as a Quillish Wammy – his personal servant, it seems – leaves him alone to his work. “We found individual pieces of paper on your person when you were detained. Were they pieces of the notebook? Does it still kill people when it’s only a piece of paper ripped out?”

Light shrugs.

“It works that way, but I don’t know if I carried pieces around. It sounds like a good idea in theory.”

In exchange for that information, Light’s able to ask L a question for himself.

“You said I was detained — how? And when?”

He watches L stick a finger into his teacup, stirring it that way before sucking droplets of tea from his finger, pushing Light to avert his eyes. The human takes just one more moment of nibbling his finger before answering.

“You murdered 12 FBI agents because they posed a threat to you. You weren’t as careful as you could’ve been…”

L isn’t looking at Light; instead, absently licking the rim of his teacup while talking.

“You targeted one agent in particular — Raye Penber. He was investigating you as well as a few others. I haven’t quite figured out how you got him to tell you who he was, nor have I figured out how you obtained the information about the other agents. I can safely assume you were able to manipulate his actions before his death – can the notebook do that?”

Light nods, crossing his arms against his chest. They don’t quite fit. His elbows stick out awkwardly, but he remains that way while awaiting more answers.

“You didn’t figure that he was engaged to another ex-FBI agent, who is quite brilliant, I might add. Naomi Misora. I have worked with her in the past, and to be truthful, she was a key contributor in leading to your arrest.”

L says this almost regretfully, and right away, Light can see he wanted to be able to take the most credit for bringing down an enigmatic criminal such as Kira.

“She figured out that you had been responsible for bus jacking right before Raye died. Since you didn’t anticipate her closing in on you, she was able to connect the pieces and figure out that you were the common denominator.”

Though Light can’t recollect any of these events, he feels – somehow – angry with himself for not having taken more precautions. Spindly fingers grip around his upper arms, but he remains silent.

“According to her, you found her at the NPA Headquarters when she came to inform us, and the two of you began discussing Kira. She mentioned that you kept taking notes – later found to be the note detailing her hypothetical death. However, she used an alias with you. Twice.”

L pauses to chew his fingernails.

The loud clicking of his teeth aggravate Light. He’s honestly furious that a woman was able to dupe him so effortlessly.

“Absolutely brilliant woman,” L repeats, and Light wants nothing more than to roll his eyes.

“Get on with it,” he snaps, and L blinks, looking up to him as if he’d forgotten he was there with to begin with.

“Right. Sorry. Anyways, you so very foolishly revealed to her that you were Kira.”

Light feels rage begin to burn within his chest. Who does L think he is, calling him foolish?!

He clenches his jaw tightly, thinking to himself that he should never have lost to these _humans_. The both of them were pathetic. A former FBI agent and a loner detective. He was disgusted, but even more so, he was _furious_.

“Enough!” Light shouts back, but L doesn’t flinch. “I get it, I fucked up. Tell me where this woman is,” he demands.

L watches him warily.

“Why?”

Light falls quiet, but L is able to infer his intention from the silence.

“You don’t have your notebook — I do,” he’s reminded.

“I’ll figure it out,” Light snaps back, standing up from the couch.

He isn’t about to let this man continue  to make him feel like a loser. He _has_ to kill Naomi Misora for ruining his plans. He _needs_ to make her pay for thinking she’s defeated him.

“Even if I wanted to comply – which I don’t – I don’t know where she is. All I know is that she’s no longer in Japan.”

Light remembers the portal back in the Shinigami Realm. Surely there’s a way he could locate a particular human from there? He knows her name now; he’d look through every human on Earth for her if he had to.

But once again, Light’s lack of wings keep him chained to the Earth.

“Light, don’t do it,” L warns, his voice as flat and emotionless as ever.

“Shut your mouth, human. You have no power over me – not anymore.”

Light spits these words at his face, hating the L that dares to tell him what to do.

“You took my life from me. You and _that woman_.”

L only watches him in response, expression tired.

“I’m going to get my revenge, and you can’t stop me, L Lawliet.”

He turns away from him. Light knows that L hates his real name being used, which is all the more incentive to use it.

But L’s left vulnerable by this decision. He knows he can’t truly stop Light from doing anything he wants to. If he really is a Shinigami, that is. So he has no choice – as a last resort —

“Light. Please,” he pleads, his voice lower, softer.

— cracks. Something cracks inside Light.

He slumps back against the wall, feeling awfully human in that moment. Filled with shame as he thinks back on his erratic choice of words, he’s suddenly remorseful about the confrontation. After all, L was kind enough to answer the questions about his past life.

However, Light refuses to apologise.

Even bigger than the shame within him is his stubbornness. He’s already supposedly lost against L in the biggest fight that cost him his life, so he wasn’t about to again admit defeat.

But then he’s left with an even more urgent question inside him — why did L’s pleading work?

He wanted to get his revenge on both Naomi Misora and L. He wanted to steal L’s remaining life, as L had done to him. An eye for an eye, really. So why?

Still slumped against the wall, and wallowing in his remorse, Light looks up at L, finding the other carefully watching him. Somehow, it makes him feel even more guilt.

At last, L speaks up first.

“It seems Light has lost the ability to control his emotions. Although, Kira always was childish in that way…”

Light remains quiet, unmoving, listening.

“However, I forgive him. Light, of course. Not Kira. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive Kira for his crimes against humanity.”

Hearing it is somehow… relieving. Yes, it’s a relief that L’s decided to separate Light’s current self from Kira. Even more comforting that L was able to take the high road and realise Light’s shame.

“Thank you,” is all he can manage to say.

But for L, it’s enough of an apology.

* * *

Eventually, L manages to coax Light away from the wall and back to the couch with stories of his supposed father.

“I haven’t known your father for a long time, but it has been long enough for me to confidently tell you that he is a truly a good man. The fact that you are a product of him leaves me clueless.”

Light deliberately chooses to focus on only the first part of L’s statement. Curious to know more about the man seen through the portal, he finds the desire to see his former family once again, but also reluctantly understands that it’s not worth the risk of revealing himself.

“Tell me more?” Light asks instead, his voice quiet.

According to the deal, it’s L’s turn to gather information next, but the detective sees well how vulnerable Light is for the moment. Deep within Light’s eyes, he sees a long gone human trying to resurface, but hurting and recoiling before progress is made. He decides to put the Kira case to rest for a while.

“He had an overwhelmingly textbook sense of justice,” L says matter-of-factly. “He was so proud of you, Light. Did I mention you were an amazing student? You must have figured that, though.”

But Light hasn’t pieced that. If anything, he thinks his human-self as an idiot for not being more careful. But ever cautiously, he forcefully pushes those thoughts away, not wanting to bring back the anger.

“In a way, I’m glad you chose to do what you did. You were an excellent criminal,” L says, and it almost comes across as a compliment.

That makes Light smile, but when L’s eyes zero in on his sharp teeth, he quickly zips his lips in new self-consciousness.

“I know to give credit when due, so know that your case is one of the most challenging I’ve ever dealt with.”

Light readily accepts that praise, glad that L doesn’t think he’s an idiot as well, regardless of the fact that he was caught.

As soon as Light feels his anger has melt away even more, L speaks up again.

“I quite like who Light has become. He was able to stop his homicidal urges, unlike Kira.”

L says this casually, reaching over the coffee table for a piece of chocolate. He plucks it out from a box previously left there by Quillish, and Light’s gaze follows his fingers as he pops the piece into his mouth.

“Thank you… Ryuzaki,” Light says, words careful as they fall from his mouth.

L doesn’t look back at him with the same glint of fear in his eyes as before. Instead, he cocks his head to one side, pondering the change of mind, but choosing not to question it. Bearing more hope, L acknowledges the use of his alias with a grateful, albeit awkward smile.

A peaceful silence falls between them.

Although his arms are still too long, and legs still too lanky, Light is finally comfortable.


	3. Pride

Two weeks pass since L locks up Light’s notebook, and only now he decides to take it back out.

“I am going to use it to kill the criminals on death row. I can make them die peacefully in their sleep – It’s the most humane death I can give them,” he tells Light, as though he should explain himself to a Shinigami.

“...”

But Light doesn’t say anything back.

Later on at the execution site, the detective looks in at a prisoner strapped to a bed from behind a pane of one-way glass.

With his Shinigami eyes, Light sees the prisoner’s lifespan blur in and out.

“God will never forgive you!” the man screams into the microphone above him.

“Ugh,” the God of Death groans, not bothering to hide his disgust. “Humans are so pathetic.”

L’s gaze from the Death Note in his hand sharply moves up to Light.

“Light… Just months ago, you were put to death in the same manner.”

“...”

It was still true... Yet no matter how it’s said, it just doesn’t sit right with him. His stomach sinks a bit, making him clench his jaw and turn away.

Light mentally blocks out the prisoner’s screams up until L actually turns the microphone off. Then all he can hear is the scratching of a pen against what could only be his Death Note.

The strokes are slow, hesitant almost, and the idea that L places that much value on the prisoner’s life makes him want to laugh out loud.

The muffled screams from inside the room stop abruptly, and a heavy silence hangs through the air.

L doesn’t touch the notebook again.

* * *

“Do you often perform executions yourself?” Light asks, once they’re back in L’s newest hotel room.

“No. But in big cases that I take on, I am given the honour of sending the most evil of my enemies out of this world.”

“... Cases like my own?”

L climbs into his chair and stares at Light, pausing for a moment.

“If you’re wondering, no, I did not perform your execution myself. I did watch from the observation room, however,” L explains to him, and Light has to nod understandably.

...Somehow, it doesn’t hurt to talk about his death as much as it did earlier. In fact, he’s probably grateful for L taking him down so early on in life — Convinced, most likely, that he fares better as a Shinigami anyway.

He doesn’t voice this, but still thanks his lucky stars for even being reborn as a God of Death. Humans are pathetic, weak, and absolutely vile creatures, and he can’t imagine living without his new supernatural abilities anymore.

To punctuate those exact thoughts, Light walks over to the hotel window. Instead of looking out of it, he leans himself through the glass, watching the world 23 stories below him. Eyes close serenely, and a grin spreads on his face.

He might finally be at peace with his new form.

L noisily slurps tea behind him, but that’s just another thing he’s grown accustomed to. With all of his disgust with humanity, L’s always been the exception.

But just as he tries question _why_ that is, a piercing pain sears his back.

In a shock, Light hurriedly pushes himself back into the hotel room, stumbling onto the carpet, and gaining L’s attention in the process.

“Light? Is everything alright?”

But he doesn’t have the answer for him.

Instead, he desperately tries to locate the source of this pain. Pain in his Shinigami body, as a concept, is something he was never prepared for.

While trying to pull off the tattered shirt in which he’d been reborn, Light realises with horror that it’s now a part of his skin. In that realisation, if he struggles any harder, he might rip himself to shreds.

He panics all by himself, silently, fingers clawing at his shoulder blades instead, trying to find some relief from the pain.

Meanwhile, still displeased without an answer, L moves to where Light is knelt on the floor, studying the Shinigami’s struggle for a moment before coming to a conclusion.

Gently, he reaches a hand out toward Light.

In his bleary panic, the Shinigami allows him to.

From between his shoulder blades, sprouts something dark and ashy through the white of his shirt. L pinches the small object, thinking it’s a thorn of sorts, and tugs on it.

Light winces, but it pulls free.

Pinched between his fingers is a feather; moderately sized, grey in colour, and covered in what could be sand. L stares at it, too stunned for a second, before Light turns his head to see it too.

But the second he does, he snatches it free from L’s hands, studying it frantically.

His wings.

They are finally coming in.

Light spreads a grin, all a row of sharp teeth, and it comes as a grim reminder to L that he’s no longer human after all.

Excitement makes Light power through the pain, and feathers continue to rapidly rip their way through his back, the sand showering onto the hotel carpet.

He laughs, a ridiculous curdling sound, and it makes L’s blood run cold.

The Shinigami stands up, each new feathers mysteriously appearing over the previous ones, layering up until the span of the wings are complete.

L’s eyes follow him, full of shock as he watches him admire his new wings.

Light stretches them out and curls them around himself experimentally. He lets out another laugh, this time even louder — unnaturally so.

L flinches at the sound, fearful, confused, but still...very much in awe.

His wings are as run down as the rest of him, but they pull together his look; the perfect finishing touch for lack of better words.

“They’re stunning,” L breathes in earnest, which makes Light shoot him a grin in response.

It both terrifies and excites him in a way he’s not sure of yet.

Light flaps his wings once, twice.

Then air kicks up between them, both their hair moving with the breeze. However, the papers that L left sitting out remain still. Just from that, L infers that Light’s physical actions might only affect him for some reason.

Light’s voice breaks through his thought.

“I’ve got to test them,” he says eagerly, flapping them again.

Without another warning, he runs back through the same wall he’d looked out of, unafraid of the free fall — or of his wings failing.

Eagerly as well, L walks over to the window, catching sight of him dramatically drop before timely diving back up, his wings flapping erratically. Light’s inhuman laugh echoes back against the building, and all he can do is stare; still shocked, still confused, still...in adoration.

* * *

“I found my family,” he tells L as soon as he lands back on the hotel room floor.

He’d been gone for just under an hour, giving the detective some serious thinking time. But all L had realised was that he grew lonely without the constant company; jarring and confusing.

“Your family?” L questions, pushing that thought away, and closing the laptop he was researching with.

Light smoothly tucks his wings in behind his back, as if he’d been doing it for years.

L notices some straying feathers, still visible from the front; the latter takes note of his wide-eyed staring, but says nothing of it.

“I admit, I watched for a bit. I honestly expected it to be tragic, but…” Light shrugs, forcing a pause.

He sits himself down on the couch; a new habit already.

“They’re just humans. Like every other human out here. Quite disappointing,” he quips, and L swerves his gaze up to meet Light’s.

“You’ve developed quite the distaste for humankind,” the detective observes, “which is interesting, considering you were so obsessed with your own humanity only days ago.”

Light glares back, a storm of vexation brewing in his eyes.

“What does it matter to you?”

“In case Light has forgotten, I live to serve humankind. Not only that, but I belong to it as well.”

Light’s internal storm disappears under that swift realisation. It’s so easy for him to forget that L is simply another human, and that they’re on two completely different planes of existence.

L emits the aura of someone offended, so he thinks to apologize, but stubbornness keeps his lips sealed.

“Come with me,” Light pitches instead, and glances out of the hotel window.

It’s dark, and he wants to see the city lights from above. Not only that, but he already caught L admiring his wings several times throughout the day, and knows they intrigue the detective just as much, if not more.

Light extends his wings to clarify the meaning.

“No,” L instantly replies, regardless of how much he wants to.

Though it sounds thrilling — to fly over Japan in the dark, to get to see those gorgeous wings in action; to know how on earth they’d be able to lift him off of the ground, it’d still be too dangerous.

Light is still a liability.

Light won’t drop the idea, though. The Shinigami hopes it could be an apology of sorts, and maybe give them both peace of mind.

“Come on. It’ll be fast,” Light presses again, leaning over so that he’s closer to L. “You’ve shown me so much of your world – Let me show you a piece of mine.”

L shifts his legs, the temptation getting the best of him. He doesn’t give Light a direct reply, though. Instead, he picks up his cellphone and dials a number, putting it to one ear in his very unique way.

“Watari, I need to conduct an experiment out of public view. Will you drive me to the outskirts of the city?”

* * *

The city’s white noise still in hearing distance, L and Light stand together in the middle of a grassy field. From there, no one should be able to spot L in the air, hoisted up by an invisible death-being.

“You’re sure you’re not just going to drop and kill me?” L cross-questions, but Light sees it as dry humor again and doesn’t answer.

Effortlessly, he scoops him up in his arms, and L kicks off his shoes, before wrapping his arms around Light’s elongated throat, surprised at the slight warmth it gives off.

“How awfully human,” he mutters, holding on tightly.

Light ignores this comment, as his wings spread out behind him, preparing to take flight.

L’s heart races and skips as the gravity shifts. Daring to look down at the ground, it seems like they’re several feet above the grass already. He quickly sucks in an excited breath, wiggling his toes in the cool nighttime air.

Although Light holds him securely behind his back and knees, L’s automatic clutch around the Shinigami’s neck tightens.

Together, they hover over the city, taking in all of the twinkling lights and buzzing life. Together, they are silently stunned by all the beauty that comes with simple human life.

“I’m sorry,” Light says out of the blue, bringing L to look up at his face.

The Shinigami is quiet for another moment, the sound of flaps filling the air around them. It’s a struggle to get through his stubbornness and pride.

“You’re not human,” Light starts it up again, “You’re so much more than they are.”

L immediately frowns. He doesn’t want to hear him speaking about how disgusting humans are again.

“Stop,” he says, his voice just loud enough to reach Light. “I am human. And I just want to enjoy this.”

With no other room for movement, L lays his head against Light’s collarbone.

“Please. Just let me enjoy this,”

“...”

Light resigns to it.

They watch the city life die out as night grows older. Sounds settle down, traffic thins out, and lights within buildings eventually turn off.

L stays put, pressing his ear against Light’s chest, listening hard for a heartbeat there. He doesn’t find one, but understandably so.

After hovering for a moment, Light wraps his unnaturally long arms around L even tighter as they move forward again.

L watches over the Shinigami’s shoulder as the city grows small behind them, but when he turns his gaze back, he is surprised to find them flitting above the ocean.

The moonlight shines down, bouncing off the rippling surface water.

“...”

In the strange serenity, L takes advantage of the moment and presses a soft kiss to Light’s sharp jaw.

Unexpectedly, the Shinigami is taken by surprise, and the latter can tell because his wings halt, and they sink a few feet in the air before the flapping picks back up.

Light looks down at the human in his arms, confused, shocked, but definitely not angry – these expressions not escaping the detective’s notice.

L simply stares back up at him with wide eyes illuminated by moonlight, causing a nervous Light to tear his red eyes away and forcibly focus on keeping them both afloat.

Frustrated L keeps desiring to kiss his lips, but as he’s already observed of them; they’re tight, cracked, and as pale and devoid of life as the rest of him. The chill rising from the water gets to his bones before he can make a decision, and he violently shivers in the Shinigami’s arms.

Silently taking a hint, Light flies them back to the field.

He sets L down gently on the grass, waiting patiently for the human to put his shoes back on, and watching again as he whips out a cellphone.

In the short moments before the car arrives, Light feels the persisting need to ask about it.

“What was that?” he starts, his tone cautious.

The last thing he wants to do is cause another rift between them again.

“Hm?” L feigns, as he stands up to brush the grass from himself. “Oh, right. Nothing of importance. Just a thank you for the flight, is all. Don’t read into it. Let’s get back to the hotel now,” he answers all too quickly, avoiding Light’s gaze.

In becoming a Shinigami, Light had gained the ability to see L Lawliet’s true name and remaining lifespan, but he’s sure nothing could ever grant him the ability to see if L is telling him the truth or not.  
  
“By the way, Light,” L adds as the car arrives, “Your wings — they’re beautiful.”


	4. Lust

L doesn’t leave his hotel rooms too often, but when Light wants to, he’s allowed to wander the city. Whenever he goes on his outings, he always finds himself checking up on a certain former family.

Inside their house, he’ll find the atmosphere eerily comforting. While listening to their boring conversations, he’ll study the photographs found hanging in the hallways, his heart growing in weight each time his name is suddenly mentioned.

“I can’t believe it’s been four months without him, already,” Sayu sighs over dinner one evening.

Light has yet to fully accept that she was once his little sister, or that the empty fourth chair at the dining table was _definitely_ once his. But _four months,_  he ponders, astounded.

When he finally returns to the hotel room, he has to clarifies to himself that, yes, over two months have dropped from L’s remaining lifespan.

During the last few weeks of receiving his eyes, it didn’t take him long to figure out the formula for translating lifespans into human time. And the math still gets easier each time he does it. His favourite guinea pig, of course, is L, since the latter’s lifespan just always so accessible.

But 2 years, 3 months, and 12 days remain floating above the detective’s face.

It’s a surprisingly short amount, and he isn’t permitted at all to tell him how much time is left. Though something much bigger looms over his head in regard to that.

He’s going to have to be the one to end his life.

It became their fate the moment Ryuk threw his notebook down into the room.

But as of late, Light’s grown achingly fond of the human.

L adores his wings, and he knows it too. And if not only from the earlier confession, then in the constant stares it’s made more and more obvious. Sometimes, the dark-haired man will even reach out to stroke a feather.

The first time it happened, Light admittedly flinched at the contact, retracting his wings quick enough to rustle of air against their faces. The detective apologised, but then it happened again the very next day. And the next.

So now, it’s habit that Light simply allows it.

Still frustrated and confused by the meaning of it all, he only continues to follow the human around, day after day. What will he think when it’s time for him to write L’s name down in the notebook?

It starts getting harder to come to terms with the fact that has to do it. Equally, it gets more difficult to accept that he’s grown a soft spot for the man. He tries to justify developing those feelings, telling himself that anyone would do so after spending so much time around someone else.

But those are a human’s thoughts processes. Light doesn’t _have_ human thoughts. At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.

However, it doesn’t take a genius to notice L’s behaviour changing around him as well.

On some nights, rare and shiny, L will join him on the loveseat and lean against his hollow body. Light never phases through him, though; he doesn’t want to. He fully enjoys that solid, warm weight against him.

Even more rare, though, is when L falls asleep on him, and the room fills up with his gentle snores. Knowing he never gets enough sleep, the Shinigami keeps dead still for hours on end, just listening to his human’s slow, deep breaths.

And it’s comforting. That’s the easiest part of it all.

* * *

Life alongside L teaches Light again many aspects of being human. But one element still remains annoyingly unclear — that is… desire.

Not desire in the way he craves knowledge, or even in the way he wanted to take Naomi Misora’s life, but desire in the way that causes humans to get frantic and red.

It must have been lost on him in his rebirth. He really can’t seem to understand it.

Light already recognises an array of human-like emotions; rage, loss, and dare he think it; even the beginning of love. But he just can’t wrap his head around wanting another person _physically_. He can’t relate to the passion that fuels that kind of erratic behaviour simply because he might not have the capacity for it.

And it’s perplexing…

One afternoon, L easily notices the way Light pays extra attention to the topic on TV, and decides to question him on it.

“Do Shinigami reproduce?” he ponders through a lollipop.

Light shakes his head at the grim concept.

“Shinigami are created. We don’t have parents,” he explains, but immediately regrets his choice of words.

“You have parents, though,” L is quick to intervene.

“You know what I mean. Shinigami don’t feel sexual attraction to one another. There isn’t a need to. It’s probably for the best, anyways. As if the world needs more monsters.”

“Is that how you see yourself?” L asks, his tone made up of genuine curiosity. “A monster?”

Light’s chest heaves with a small sigh. It’s a hard question, even to himself.

“In the most literal sense of the word, yes, I do believe so. Do you not?”

L shakes his head in denial, pulling the lollipop from his mouth with a _pop_.

Light watches the way it gleams in his fingers before clearing another sigh, and opting to re-explain himself.

“I just don’t remember ever understanding human _sexuality_. Even now, no matter how much I learn about it, I can’t _understand_ it, and it frustrates me.”

He hates to admit that, agitated he could actually be stumped over a human concept.

But at the sight of his honest confusion, L has to forcefully fight off a chuckle. He knows that Light wouldn’t be able to see the humour in it.

“Well, being human, I understand it,” he says, sticking the candy back into his mouth.

His next words come out muffled.

“And I wouldn’t mind showing you that part of humanity.”

Light shoots him a mixed look about what that means.

“Besides, I’ve found myself quite attracted to Light’s new form,” he muses some more, as if it were a normal confession to be making. “I’m curious to see if we can make it work.”

For a moment, the Shinigami’s stunned quiet. His stomach tingles the tiniest bit, but that’s the most reaction he can find out of L’s words. If anything, he’s already satisfied that L would want to teach him, but—

“No,” he firmly states, crossing his arms right away. “I can’t.”

“Even if Shinigami don’t have the physicality down, there are other ways,” L informs him, but the latter grows embarrassed by the implication.

And that’s not all. Light would _hate_ to admit to L that he actually has no idea _how_ to have sex.

“I doubt I’ll find it at all pleasurable,” the Shinigami tries to excuse himself.

L shrugs.

“Even if it’s not physically pleasurable, it can be extremely mentally fulfilling,” he offers back to Light, who frowns at him.

“For humans, perhaps, but—”

“But what? Would it really be so bad to experience a human activity one last time?”

At that point, Light knows he won’t win.

He glances back up to the human’s ticking lifespan and thinks that maybe L’s aware that he hasn’t much time left. Maybe L means himself when he says _one last time_. And Maybe L is right. Maybe it won’t be so bad.

“Alright. But you have to fly with me once more. An eye for an eye,” he negotiates teasingly, knowing his human wouldn’t be able to pass it up.

And as anticipated, L nods without hesitation.

—Ah. Is that a smile on him?

* * *

It’s weird.

Even though he’s no longer human, he can still clearly feel the switch to tension.

L takes the lead, since he’s the one teaching, and Light can only feel grateful.

Seated together on the hotel bed, L tentatively pulls off his own clothes. So far, it’s not different from what the Shinigami’s seen on the screens.

He studies L closely, trying to spot a new type of yearning within himself. But nothing changes.

Staring right back to him with his signature wide-eyes, L moves in to kiss his jaw softly, as he’s done a handful of times since their first flight.

Light’s eyes lull while he enjoys the warm pressure against his skin. It’s nice.

Feeling more advantageous, L nabs up Light’s lips, happily surprised by the roughness of them.

The Shinigami automatically kisses him back; a part he can do. Kisses are nice, and he can understand wanting them, but that’s where the line both begins and ends.

Anything beyond that is a complete mystery.

L lays down next to him, and Light watches too intrigued, as dark eyes fix on his dark wings.

Taking note of it, Light flexes them a bit, and then lifts one up.

L seems to experience a physical change right away.

Shinigami eyes fall to his human’s hips. Through thin boxers, a growing arousal keeps his interest piqued. And…he wants to see more…even if for nothing more than curiosity.

L understands this without words, and has no problem doing exactly like he offered; simply showing Light how it all worked.

An eager gaze follows L’s hand as the latter reaches down to palm himself through the material, and when L’s breath hitches, red eyes quickly snap back up to see L’s cheeks flushed pink.

That’s… _beautiful_.

It’s odd to admit, even if to himself.

So he feels like an idiot after finally realising why the reaction to his wings.

Stifling a sound, L sinks into his bottom lip while continuing to rub himself, moony eyes glued to his ashy appendages.

That… was the source of L’s desire?

It makes absolutely no sense.

But at the same time, an inspired Light figures that a show wouldn’t hurt the learning experience. He spreads his wings far out, pride filling him as he does so.

The way L sinks into his lower lip even deeper motivates him to continue.

He flaps his wings a few times. A loud _whoosh_ of air blows past the detective’s ears, and it seems to drive him crazy.

Desperately, L pushes his underwear down, and pale, skinny fingers wrap around his dick, squeezing and stroking.

Light can’t take his eyes off of him. As L lays flat, the Shinigami moves to lean up over his pale figure, studying all of the human’s delicious expressions, each of them putting more of those tingles in his chest.

He nearly forgets to hold up his end of the unspoken agreement when his wings freeze, and L does as well. But as soon as he understands this, they start up again, spreading wide to be adored.

Seconds tick by, and the Shinigami realises himself completely engulfed by the intimate situation.

Panting softly, L’s hand moves at a steady pace, eyes ever glued to his wings.

With L enjoying himself, and Light’s ego being stroked, what more could he want from this?

However, that question is decidedly answered when Light swoops one wing down, incidentally brushing his feathers against L’s bare tummy. In reaction, L eagerly whines, and the noise zaps electrically through Light’s entire body.

He wants… more of these sounds.

Even though there’s no inclination to put his hands on L’s body, with his wings, it feels like a different story. He wholeheartedly brings them both forth, immersing L’s flushed and writhing body within them, and as expected, the action pulls more of those addicting sounds out of L.

“Light!” L cries out, and he’s utterly surprised to feel the man orgasming beneath him, his hips stuttering and his eyes sliding shut.

Ashen wings keep protectively around L as his breath steadies, sated and sleepy eyes blinking rapidly at him

“Thank you,” he says simply, seeming to be at an equal loss of words.

Light’s still not sure he really understands what goes on in a human brain during such activities, but did learn that he’s willing to do it all over again. And that kisses are enjoyable.

Very much so.

Retracting his wings, Light leans down, and gently kisses L, almost surprising him with it, but the return kiss is soft and compliant.

It’s nice.

* * *

Later that night, L fulfills his end of the deal and allows Light to carry him through the sky once more.

And when the human kisses Light in the air this time, there is no faltering, and no thin excuses muttered afterwards. A silent truce settles between them. They both stop running from their budding feelings.

Neither say a word aloud about it, and they don’t need to.  
  
Things are okay. Things are easy.


	5. Envy

Weeks fly by fast while they're occupied with each other and newfound feelings.

L blows through cases like he’s the wind, while Light accompanies him like a secret agent. Or invisible partner. And whenever this invisible partner sees the first signs exhaustion, he always takes L out to fly.

And it’s quite refreshing. The wind, the weightlessness, the feeling of being safely held in Light’s arms. The detective usually returns to work diligently after that, his mind renewed.

Though, this time, it doesn’t work out as well.

L returns to his hotel room just as frustrated as before.

“I know who can help me with this,” he says aloud, but not particularly directed at him.

As L pulls out his cell phone, Light spots the name attached to the dialed number, and a very confused, hot anger begins to well up inside him.

“Greetings, Naomi. I was hoping you’d be able to offer your insight on this particular case...” L begins, but Light cuts in right away.

“You lied to me!” he furiously shouts, but L simply holds a hand up to shush him.

Naomi wouldn't hear him anyway.

“I’ll be contacting you via email,” he says, ignoring the Shinigami’s angry glare.

The second L hangs up, he turns back to him with a tired expression.

“I didn’t. I told you the truth, Light. I don’t know her whereabouts. What good will her phone number do you?”

Light watches seethingly as L begins typing away on his laptop, presumably messaging that woman already, but nothing he can say can quell his growing rage.

“I need her for this case,” L argues at his mood. “Do not come between me and my work,” he demands, and that’s the end of it.

That’s the line, isn’t it? L’s line. And Light knows he has to respect it, the way L respects his line. It’s the only way things will work between them.

But _still_. He can’t accept this.

The Shinigami chooses to leave for a while, flying around aimlessly until his anger can dissipate.

* * *

_Sex_ , or rather, watching and sometimes helping L get off, has become another normal thing between them.  
  
Light mostly does it because he knows L enjoys it. But also because it feels like it brings the two of them even closer together. Yet, his favourite parts are the afterwards, when L is relaxed and soft.  
  
One of these times in particular, when Light pulls L into his hold, the man obliges without question. The human is small in his arms, trusting and breakable. The fact that L trusts him like this – trusts Light not to suddenly sink in those sharp teeth and rip open his throat – makes him tremble.  
  
He hopes L doesn't notice, but of course he does. That's just how things go with him, and Light accepts that.  
  
As L shivers in turn, Light wraps his wings around the both of them instinctively.  
  
"I'd do anything for you," L all but sighs, quiet, but his Shinigami can only think of one lost possibility.  
  
He stays quiet about it. 

* * *

L is perched in his usual position on the couch when he flies back into the room.

"You said anything; I want to kill Misora," the God of Death admits.  
  
Light notices a twinge of disgust on L’s lips before he opens them.  
  
"No."  
  
In reply, Light clenches his jaw more tightly.  
  
"She is innocent, Light."  
  
"I can't have you working with and praising the woman who brought _me_ -”

He freezes. No, that isn’t him anymore.

“-brought _Kira_ down,” he corrects himself.

L doesn’t look at him.

“You said you’d do anything for me,” Light repeats, and the detective bites back an irritated groan.

“You should know I didn’t mean literally _anything_ ,” he justifies, hoping Light would understand that it was all pillow talk; L’s way of expressing his feelings of dedication and admiration toward Light without using the word _love_.

But of course, Light being non-human, just doesn’t get it.

“I _don’t_ know, actually,” Light bites, his tone tight and agitated.

L sighs. It was a bad choice of words after all.

But the Shinigami isn’t going to let it go without an apology or an argument. That’s just how things work with him, and L is supposed to have accepted that.

“Why does Light still care about her? I’m sure you’ve mentioned something about her and I setting you free from the reigns of humanity,” he says, eyes unmoving from his laptop.

 _Her and I_ , Light thinks. _What a disgusting phrase_.

“I don’t care. It’s not about my human life anymore. It’s about my dignity,” he states, but there’s something else now.

Something invasive that he has to bite back from escaping him so viciously.

_Jealousy._

—No way is he jealous of a _human_?!

But how else can he explain this burning in his chest? Especially after moving over to read what L wrote.

‘ _Misora, you are the only one intelligent enough that I know of who can help me solve the puzzles being left behind.’_

All he wants to do is smash the laptop to pieces, but that line is holding him back; L’s line, his own limitations.

He doesn’t know how to deal with these over-boiling emotions; they keep trying to spill out of him.

“It’s me or her,” he breaks, snapping his jaw shut with an audible _clack_.

That’s enough to pull L’s attention from the computer.

“What?” he asks, but Light doesn’t retract the ultimatum.

There’s no true driving power behind it, though. L could very well choose to continue working with Misora, and Light’s only way out would be to kill him.

But he doesn’t want to explain this.

L narrows his eyes at Light, who starts to shrink under the unusual glare.

“Light, stop this. You’re acting like a jealous child. You’re my Shinigami, not my boyfriend.”

The self-removed tone shatters something inside him. As a result, Light’s stance wavers, but an anger quickly overtakes him.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he spits, “as if I’d really love a human.”

Defiantly, Light’s wings flare out. He dives out the side of the building before L can react.

It stings.

Of course it would.

* * *

As the night drags on, L doesn’t see so much as a gaunt limb of his Shinigami.

Naomi Misora properly distracts him, so they successfully solve their puzzles by sunrise. But after she retires, it gets more glaringly obvious again.

He shuts his laptop.

There’s only dead silence.

He hasn’t a clue where Light might be, or when he’d get back. _If_ he’d be back.

* * *

Though physical exhaustion isn’t something he can suffer anymore, Light just wants to collapse.

Somewhere above the ocean, he’s unable to see anything else but crashing, uninviting waters for miles. Yet, somehow that’s also comforting; to be parallel to something as internally chaotic as himself.

He doesn’t really know how long he’s been up in the air; doesn’t care either. He just wants to fly until it stops hurting.

But that doesn’t seem to help at all. Thoughts _always_ drift back to L.

He tries to pinpoint when the hell he’d sunk low enough to even develop feelings for a human, but nothing surfaces. He’s just disgusted with himself.

Wings halt in the air, and he free-falls down. He doesn’t care anymore.

The lanky body hits the water, and red vision is immediately lost to blue. He allows himself to sink; down, down, down. It matches his inner turmoil.

He wishes he could just drown.

But the water filling his lungs affect him in no way. It feels just like air, albeit thicker. Colder.

 _Too cold_.

Light knows he should just snap out of it and get back to his notebook, but he doesn’t want to. He remains still, thinking of L again as the ocean’s currents do with him as they wish.

He hopes L misses him. He hopes L is hurting even half as much.

* * *

****Light eventually returns to him, grateful that he’s still at the same hotel. He’s not sure how long he was away.

Watari is there too. It hadn’t taken him long to learn the aliases.

L glances up at Light, but doesn’t react otherwise.

“Thank you, Watari. I’d like to be alone now, please,” he says, and the older man bows respectfully before making his exit.

The next thing Light notices is that 12 days have dropped off from L’s lifespan. He hates that it’s his only way to keep track of human time.

1 year, 11 months, and 3 days remain.

Light knows he needs to get over himself already. He needs to forget about Naomi Misora. He needs to tell L how he feels before… before he can’t.

So he does.

Light heaves in a breath, and lets it out slowly.

“Ryuzaki, I’ve been behaving like a monster, and I know the last thing you need is someone like me.”

L flits his eyes up to Light, but doesn’t make a move. Doesn’t make a sound.

“I just can’t stop _wanting_ you,” he admits, but his voice sounds angry.

“And I’m sorry—” he tries to elaborate, but can’t find the rest of the words.

Sorry for not being human? Sorry he fucked up so bad in a previous life that things are never going to work out between them?

L’s gaze falls to the floor for a moment. He looks so, so sad, and Light feels so angry at himself for doing this to him.

But it’s L that speaks up first.

“You must understand, Light, that I am first and foremost dedicated to my work.”

He knows that already. During his absence, Light already made sure to hammer it into himself; of course he understands.

“For the rest of my days here at least,” L adds, the smallest hint of regret hanging onto his words.

Perking up with curiosity, Light automatically falls down onto the couch.

“Which I am beginning to think are running low,” L says, finally looking to Light.

It clicks.

So… So L _does_ know about his dwindling life-span. He can’t figure out _how_ he knows, but the look in L’s eyes tells him that yes, he is aware.

“So I have decided that there is no longer use in running from all of this. My choice is simple; I die alone with only my work, or I die with you by my side. What does Light think?”

His voice is low, full of sadness.

Light sucks in a breath, like he’s only just broken the ocean surface.

He loves him.

He really, truly loves L.

And knows that for sure now because he’ll do anything to ensure L chooses the second of his two options.

So that’s just it.

Maybe he’ll be the second to say so, since L already confessed weeks ago, but after everything, Light wants to tell him this feeling, in only the way he’s learned how to.  
  
“I’d do anything for you.”


	6. Sloth

Four months later, the Kira case is officially closed.

That weight lifts off L’s shoulders just as another adds onto Light’s. Their original pact is finally coming to a close. But even though he never fully learned to understand humanity, Light’s true desires hinge on something else now.

It feels like every new moment is hanging by a thread, their words never totally reaching each other; an unspoken rift growing bigger the longer they avoid it.

It’s stupid, and Light knows that, but he can’t continue to ignore the numbers melting away each time he looks at L. His human’s a ticking timebomb! And he still doesn’t know what to do about it.

L knows already that Light has to be the one to kill him, so he’s the first one to bring down the axe one day.

“When will you write my name?” he breaks the silence, and Light’s chest automatically tightens.

He really doesn’t want to answer it; really doesn’t want to think about it.

“I don’t know,” he meekly replies.

“I’m correct, though, aren’t I?” the detective pushes. “I _am_ running low on time?”

The Shinigami nods. It’s not technically breaking the rules. He’s not telling L _exactly_ how much time is left.

The detective lets out a thin laugh.

“How tragic it all turned out to be…”

Light watches as L bites into a pastry, crumbs littering his lap.

He doesn’t say a word. Instead, he closes the distance in a stride, and picks the human right up, startling him in surprise.

“What?” the man questions, cautiously shoving the rest of the dessert into his mouth.

“Shh.. Do you trust me?”

He replies with a muffled ‘uh huh’.

Light finds him so disgustingly endearing.

The Shinigami balances him in one arm while pushing open the balcony glass door. Then carrying him again in both arms, Light spreads out his wings. With abnormally long legs, he steps up onto the railing, and then drops into an immediate flight.

Though it’s only mid-afternoon, the skies are thick with dark clouds. And behind the start of a foggy drizzle, they remain pretty obscured.

Light holds onto him tightly, hoping to somehow shield him from the rain.

“I never meant for this to be tragic,” he tells L, once they’re above the rainclouds and out of the city’s sight. “But I got selfish. I know that now.”

He pauses briefly.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do when it’s time,” he admits soon after, and L reaches up a hand to cradle his face.

Light leans into it.

“Let’s go back,” L says in response, lips curling into a sad smile.

* * *

Once back in the warm room, Light tries to help him out of his sopping wet clothes, but can’t help feeling his partner’s quiet sadness.

Without an ounce of tact, Light attempts to divert him with a small, soft kiss, but the reaction to it is less than satisfying.

“I apologise, Light. It’s just that… My imminent death is starting to get to me. I don’t even want to take on any more cases.”

He’s very obviously depressed. Anyone would be if they were aware of living their final days.

After L finishes undressing, Light tails him into the bathroom, stopping to stand in the corner to watch him shower. Another weird habit of theirs.

“Ryuzaki, you needn’t force yourself to work. You can take a break,” Light advises, and through the frosted glass, he can see the detective pause and turn around.

Light suggesting a break implies that he has more than just a few weeks left. That brings him a bit of comfort somehow.

“I think I will do so. Will Light remain by my side?”

“ _Of course_.”

* * *

After L agrees to some time off, they soon realise a gaping hole in the field of detectives.

Quite opportunely, Light offers to try and fill it, posing as L in their time left. After all, it’s interesting, and Shinigami love _interesting_.

Though the human detective needs to refresh him on how to use a laptop, Light can’t really help the awkward crouching and slow typing due to his long, clumsy fingers. It takes him some time to get used to everything.

One evening, while biding some time in bed, L studies Light work with all his moon-eyed curiosity.

The Shinigami can feel himself being watched, but that helps in its own way; it makes his critical thinking skills sharper.

Once Light finds his first lead in a bombing case, he figures he’s having an okay time. He feels more useful this way, and knows it’s at least bringing _some_ relief to L’s guilt about retiring.

After Light’s able to provide the police with enough evidence to convict the bomber, L is already over his shoulder reviewing the information with a face of awe.

“Wow, you actually did it,” the human muses, and just as Light’s pride is about to take a blow at the tone, L rewards him with a kiss to his cold cheek.

That immediately brings an embarrassed, goofy smile to Light’s face, and his pride swells up again. It feels _so_ nice to be praised by his human.

The very next day, L receives yet another request to take up a case, so Light accepts it as his own, but just as he begins the project, the black-haired man climbs into his lap and perches there.

“...?”

His thighs are hard, bony, and clearly uncomfortable, but L surprises him by somehow staying put. Is he actually comfortable?

“Let’s solve this one together, Light.”

_Huh?_

His stomach instantly flips. That idea seems _really_ intimate somehow. He can’t bring himself to refuse it.

“Yeah.”

* * *

“If you were human, we could have been partners,” L says a week later, with a handful of partnered cases already behind them.

Light doesn’t appreciate this particular fantasy.

“If you were a Shinigami, we could be partners,” he retorts teasingly, being careful for the fragile peace in place.

“If I were a Shinigami, would we waste our time with human problems?”

That’s a good point. Light isn’t too sure how to answer it.

“I don’t know. We’d have so much time to do whatever we wanted,” he offers instead.

“Would you still carry me when we flew together?”

Light snorts.

“No, you’d have your own wings.”

For a moment, L stays quiet.

“Would you at least hold my hand?” he asks again, and looks up at him sincerely.

“Why would I hold your hand?”

“That’s what humans do when they’re in love,” L answers simply.

But… Light isn’t human at all. Isn’t he aware of that?

The God of Death looks down at his hands, remembering the first time he ever saw them. He can pinpoint clearly each blue line underneath, a reminder of the lack of blood running through them.

Was falling for L a mistake?

He thinks of Ryuk back in the Shinigami Realm, probably looking down and laughing at them.

“Love,” Light repeats, voice blank.

L moves over slowly, reaching out for his hand, intertwining their fingers together. His hand essentially drowns in the large expanse of Light’s palm.

But Light can see why it’s considered a sign of affection amongst humans. The intense warmth radiating off L’s palms moves an indescribable feeling through him, and if he’s still enough, he can even feel his pulse. But L won’t feel any of these things coming back from him.

“Are we in love?” Light asks, eyes fixed on their hands tangled together.

L nods.

“We are.”

* * *

Daydreams occupy the Shinigami over the course of the week.

Each time he looks to his human boyfriend, he imagines what he’d appear like as a God of Death. Imagines being able to teach L about the strange rebirthing process. He visualises what kind of wings would sprout from his back the way his own did.

He also thinks of what he’s had to keep hidden from L.

Those who use the notebook become Shinigami. Ryuk taught him that rule. Though L’s only used it the one time, his fate’s been set. Of course he’s never told L any of this, because he can’t. Shinigami are always bound by their rules, and he’s had to be careful about it.

That doesn’t make him any less terrified of having to write down L’s name. There’s a chance he could forget all of his human life, and by extension, all the time they spent together. A small chance, but still a rotten chance.

Light tries to keep his thoughts logical and in order. What’s most likely to happen is this: they’ll share the Shinigami Realm together, whether or not they remain in love.

But Light hopes to god they do.

* * *

It happens when L’s lifespan is down to exactly 3 months.

After L drifts off to sleep in the hotel bed, Light takes some hours into the night to simply study him.

He watches him breathe, shift around, notices how his eyes move restlessly behind their lids. Subtle human things. _Ryuzaki_ things.

Light leans down and kisses those eyelids gently. He’s going to miss his soft, warm body.

But that’s a price both of them have to pay. For having his Death Note thrown down. For having the notebook used. To be together in death.

Solemnly, Light walks over to the locked black case holding his notebook, and sticks his arm right through it. Instantly, he pulls it back out.

Flipping it open to the first page, he notes the single name L once added.

Light walks up to his partner’s sleeping figure and takes a seat down beside him. He runs his long, long fingers through the detective's dark hair, almost glad that his human can leave this way — _peacefully_.

It takes him several minutes to gather up the courage to press his pen against the page, but once he does, the Shinigami instincts take over.

 _L Lawliet. Dies painlessly in his sleep._  
  
He adds in the date, and schedules it to happen in two minutes.

Light quickly snaps the notebook closed, and swallows thickly. He had no idea it was possible for his chest to ache this way.

The Shinigami looms over him again, silent as he kisses the pale skin of his human’s face.

He loses track of the seconds, but eventually, L stops breathing. Somehow, it doesn’t terrify him as much as he thought it would. L isn’t here, but he isn’t gone either.

Light presses a final kiss to L’s lips, still warm but lifeless.

It’s time to go.

L is waiting for him.   


	7. Gluttony

When Light returns home, Ryuk is the first to greet him.

“Light! You’re back earlier than expected!” the pitch-black Shinigami exclaims.

He finds his former partner eagerly sizing up all of his new physical transformation.

Light’s body lost a lot of its leftover human traits since he respawned, including but not limited to his left-over flesh. Now he no longer carries himself with the same nervousness and confusion, but instead walks with his head held high; a proud Shinigami.

Ryuk is suitably impressed.

Light, on the other hand, is too busy scanning the area for the newest addition of their Realm. Still silent, he allows the older Death God to toy with his new wings while looking for the one Shinigami that would still likely look most human.

Ryuk is the one that fervently spots him first.

“How’d you guys get along, anyway?” the older Shinigami asks, eyeing down the newest recruit.

The one in topic is sitting alone in the dirt, _of course_ , exploring the new world around him with a fascinated gaze. With the latter’s knees to his chest, and thumb between his lips, there’s absolutely no mistaking him.

Light only answers his former partner with a smile, before parting ways with a quick flight.

“I should’ve guessed,” Ryuk grumbles before shouting, “We’ll catch up later, Light!”

Light immediately lands beside L, dropping to a seat on the ground next to him. 

The new Shinigami greets him with a knowing gaze, and Light’s breath hitches.

“I’m so glad you remember me,” he inhales properly, taking in his boyfriend’s new form.

L appears notably smaller than himself, but still the same long mess of limbs that all other Shinigami tend to be. His skin has taken on an even more sickly tone, nearly grey. His dark hair; a total mess, but Light wonders fleetingly if it’s as soft as it was while he was human.

Although his eyes have always been wide and empty, now they seem even moreso. His gaze is strangely invasive; bigger, darker, and filled with even more mystery – But even so, Light doesn’t fear him. There’s no reason to.

“I don’t think I ever will forget you, Light,” L says, and Light floods with relief to hear that familiar deadpan tone, even if a bit rougher around the edges.

“Writing your name was _horrifying_ ,” Light recounts, and his boyfriend shares an empathetic look.

“I guess it's only fair. After all, I am the one responsible for ending your human life; just as you are for mine,” he calmly replies.

L thinks of the day Light was put to death, and decides he’s most definitely better off as a Shinigami. Humanity just doesn’t suit him.

Light’s eyes instantly fall to L’s hands, now only ghosts of what they used to be. All that’s left appears to be bone and fingernail, but still… he wants to hold them.

“Come on,” Light suggests as he stands up, dusting his bony legs off.

L stands up in tandem, and Light has to choke back a laugh at the clear six inches in height difference.

It feels so good to laugh… to just have all worries of the future finally put to rest.

It seems L’s wings won’t arrive until he completely accepts his new self, so until then, Light makes good on an old request.

It’s more difficult now– definitely more awkward, but Light manages to pick him up into in his arms. L more easily wraps around his neck, and there’s even more for Light to hold onto this way, and somehow, it feels like they fit together better than before.

When Light’s wings flare out, he catches L watching them with the usual interested gaze, and it makes him smile. He’s just _so_ , so happy that, even though he left his human life and body behind, L is still the _same_ being he fell in love with.

Just before taking off, Light leans in and kisses him. It feels incredibly different, with their mouths cold and rough, but he decides it has to be his new most favourite feeling.

As they fly off together, the newer Shinigami leans into Light’s chest, just like the first time they flew, which now truly feels like a lifetime ago.

The Shinigami Realm isn’t much to look at; dingy sand as far as the eye can see, and heaps of bones, and caves, and rocks. But they belong there. Still, it doesn’t feel exactly like the most welcoming place.

So why does it feel so _right_ for them to be together this way? It makes Light wonder if it was always meant to be; the both of them, far too much to be contained in human bodies, meant to be Gods of Death, to exist within nothingness together for the rest of eternity.

But thinking on it logically, it would imply a greater force behind everything, and as a Shinigami, Light isn’t applicable to such grace. Then if not fate, it’s more likely luck. An _abominable_ amount of luck.

But if it _is_ all luck… he feels blessed all the same.

* * *

Finally, with the looming sense of the _end_ all gone, they can truly enjoy their time together.

Soon enough, L’s wings come in before his eyes, and their beauty rivals that of Light's. They’re white– of course they are, but with chains threaded throughout the feathers.

Light thinks they’re perfect. He can’t quite figure out _what_ they represent, but he suspects it’s L’s everlasting loyalty toward humankind.

Their days are spent flying endless distances together, waiting patiently for L’s eyes to develop. Light holds L’s hand a lot of the time, and in return, L flashes toothy grins at him every once in awhile. The sight of L smiling would likely terrify a human, but Light thinks his jagged smile beats everything else.

Interestingly, L never brings up the fact that Light hid the whole Death-Note-users-become-Shinigami thing from him, but he suspects it’s because the human world’s greatest detective already figured it out for himself. So even if L one day decides he's going to be angry about it, he’s reassured by the fact that he'll have until the end of time to win him back over again.

Spindly hands intertwined, they explore the infinite expanses of the Realm together, and there isn’t any urgency behind anything they do. So restful, they could even call it resting in _peace_.

* * *

Once L’s eyes finally begin to work, the first thing he does with them is locate Watari through a portal to the human world.

He successfully finds him; safe, and happy, dutifully serving someone new. L recognizes that person as a child from Wammy’s House, grown much since he’s last seen him.

It brings him ease knowing the world won’t really feel the absence of a major detective. And it’s this peace that finally brings him to let go any remaining resistance about the new nature of his life.

Together, he and Light perch themselves before the portal, and gaze in.

L finally takes the notebook into his hands, flipping through its empty contents for the first time. Then without hesitation, he writes the name of the first human he sees, in the first random country that he looks into. Forty seconds later, he feels the remaining years of their lifespan transfer over to him. It doesn’t feel utterly horrible, but it doesn’t sit right either.

That is, until he looks over to Light busily writing down names.

He doesn’t ever want to be separated from him again. If indiscriminately taking more humans lives off the first stolen life is the only way to do it, then… so be it.

He already played his part as a human well. But now he’s a God of Death, with new responsibilities, a new reality… and someone to live for.

In sync, the two Shinigami write an abundance of names into their notebooks. They sit there for hours, scratching in name after name.

The other Shinigami laugh at them, teasing them for being so greedy.

“The humans aren't going anywhere! You’ve got ages to write; quit working so hard!”

But all that noise is ignored.

Both Light and L know they’re being selfish in doing this. They know they’re abusing their power, and defying the justice they once fought for. Yet… they continue with it.

Side by side, they take, and take, and take years of life from the humans below them. It only stops once they each have added over a thousand years to their lifespans.

L looks to Light, a gleam of regret in his eyes, thinking of the body count that just racked up because of him. But because of it, he’ll get a thousand years by Light’s side, exploring world after world, doing whatever they desire.

 _A thousand years_ , Light thinks in parallel, and squeezes L’s hand in his own.

He can’t wait to learn, conquer… discover all that they can in the next thousand years — and while next to the one he loves.  
  
And it’s enough, finally… for now, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading. xx.

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by my lovely skye (gaynette.tumblr.com) <3


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